The Letter
by TT-5
Summary: In times of war all things are uncertain, especially for the front line troops. It was a common practice for soldiers to write letters to family members and friends to be posted in the event that they died. If Andrew did the same what he would have written to his father?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I should mention Maggie and Grace are the names I have given to Hugh Reid's daughters.

1940

For a long time Flight Lieutenant Andrew Foyle sat on his bunk, writing pad in his lap, pen held loosely in his hand staring off into the distance at something that only he could see. Finally he took a deep breath and began to write.

_Dear Dad,_

_Our first combat op is tomorrow! I can't believe it is finally here after all this time. We are all so excited to finally get in the air and give Jerry what-for! Wing Co has given us strict instructions to get a full nights sleep and make sure we have "our affairs in order." Which basically means making sure we have our letters written. It is very strange to be writing a letter I hope never gets posted._

_We don't really talk about it of course, but we all know that coming back isn't a guarantee. I truly hope everything goes well and I will see you in a few weeks when we get some leave. But just in case there are some things I want to make sure you know._

_I know I haven't always been the best son and I am sorry for all the worry I have caused you over the years. It was never my intention but as you know sometimes I'm not very good at stopping to think things through._

_One thing that I did think through though was my decision to join up. I know you weren't very happy about it but you must understand that I couldn't have stayed at Oxford with everything that is going on. I don't regret it Dad. I regret the worry I will have caused you but even if it costs me everything I know it was the right thing to do and I pray that the war will be a little shorter for what I have done._

_You have always said that the most important thing a man can understand is the difference between right and wrong and that a man must stand firm, regardless of the consequences, for things of true importance. You have spent your whole life living by these words and I hope that one day I might be half as good a man as you._

_If I must die to protect England from the Nazis then I will do so. I hope it never comes to that but I suppose if you are reading this it has. Do not blame the RAF Dad I made my own choices._

_I cannot begin to tell you how much I hate the idea of causing you pain. If it has come to this please promise me something Dad. Promise me that you will look after yourself. Please. Keep living and fishing and do try to smile now and then. Let Mr. and Mrs. Reid help and please keep an eye on Maggie and Grace for me. _

_You have always been my hero Dad and the best father I could have asked for. Thank you for everything._

_God bless and God speed,_

_Your loving son,_

_Andrew_

He re-read the letter several times before carefully folding it up and placing it in one of the envelopes beside him.

Half an hour later he had finished the other letter he needed to write and rising from his bunk with a sigh placed them carefully in the bottom of his locker where he knew they would be easy to find. He glanced around the barracks and then went out to get one last cup of tea before bed.

The End


	2. Epilogue

May 1945

Andrew had been home for almost two weeks when Foyle finally suggested they go through his kit. When Andrew had first come home they had just dumped it in a corner of his bedroom. Foyle would have been content to leave it there but he knew it would need to seen to eventually and doing it sooner would save them from reopening partly healed wounds at a later date.

That is how he found himself digging through Andrew's kit bag on this rainy afternoon. He had sent Andrew to make tea, sensing that he needed a break from the memories that were suddenly filling the study.

Foyle had insisted on bring everything down to the study on the pretext of there being better light. In reality he didn't want Andrew to have to face these memories in his bedroom, he was having a hard enough time sleeping as it was.

His hand encountered something that felt a like a letter and he glanced down as he pulled a rather dirty envelope from the bag. He turned it over and was surprised to see his name written on the front in Andrew's distinctive hand.

_No letters for all those months, I ought to box his ears if he just forgot to post them!_ He hesitated for a minute but could still hear Andrew rattling around in the kitchen. _Suppose I could wait but it is addressed to me, best just see what it is, might be something Andrew would rather not think about just now. _Mind made up he carefully opened the letter and withdrew two sheets of slightly faded paper.

"_Dear Dad,_

_Our first combat op is tomorrow! I can't believe it is finally here after all this time. We are all so excited to finally get in the air and give Jerry what-for! _

Foyle frowned, his eyes flicking up to the top right hand corner to check the date, 1940. _Why on earth would Andrew have held on to a letter for this long?_

"_Wing Co has given us strict instructions to get a full nights sleep and make sure we have "our affairs in order." Which basically means making sure we have our letters written. It is very strange to be writing a letter I hope never gets posted."_ Foyle felt a sudden chill descend over his body as he realized what this was. It was the letter Andrew had written to him in case he died in combat.

Even as he listened to Andrew making a racket in the kitchen he felt an icy bolt of fear and pain rip through him, the letter in his shaking hand a heartbreaking reminder of how close he had come to losing his son.

For a long moment he hesitated, unsure if he wanted to read what could have been the last words he ever received from his son. He knelt there chewing his cheek for several minutes before taking a deep breath and returning his attention to the letter.

It wasn't very long and by the time Andrew came in with the tea tray Foyle had read it several times and tears were starting to blur his vision.

"I say there really is bugger all in the larder" Andrew announced as he entered the room. He froze as he noticed the tears in his father's eyes, "Dad? What is it?"

Foyle looked up and opened his mouth only to find that he was unable to say anything. Andrew watched him with growing concern. Quickly placing the tea tray on the desk he knelt beside his father and reached out to touch him gently on the shoulder, "Dad are you alright?"

Foyle nodded, blinking hard and that was when Andrew caught sight of the letter. "Oh Dad I'm sorry, I forgot that was in there. Look, don't worry about it alright? It was all for naught anyway, here I am."

Foyle nodded again, running a hand over his face as he fought for control of his emotions.

"It was all true you know." Andrew said softly after a minute, "I meant everything I said."

Foyle looked up and shook his head, "not all true" he rasped.

Andrew frowned looking a little offended, "I think I would know how I felt Dad!"

"Not what I meant." Foyle took a deep breath, "Andrew, I'm sorry that I ever gave you cause to think…" he broke off, glancing down for a minute before looking Andrew straight in the eye, "you are the best son I could have asked for Andrew. I wasn't upset that you joined up I was upset that you had to. I had so hoped," he swallowed hard, "that those years in France would have saved you from having to go to war yourself."

He studied his son, tears shining in his eyes, "I have never been anything but proud of you Andrew. I was proud of you when you were a boy and I am so very proud of the man you have become. I am sorry I ever gave you cause to doubt that."

Before he could go on Andrew wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in Foyle's neck. "Love you Dad."

Foyle could feel the tears dampening his collar and ran a gentle hand over the back of Andrew's head, "I love you too son." He murmured as he held his boy close and thanked God yet again for his safe return. 

By the time they pulled away, their eyes were reddened and their tea was cold but some of the pain had lifted from their hearts.

"I prayed those letters would never get sent Dad, even as I carried them with me to every new posting."

Foyle nodded and then asked "letters?"

Andrew nodded, "I wrote to Mr. and Mrs. Reid as well as to the girls."

Foyle nodded again, _Andrew had always seen the Reids as family, it only made sense that he would have written to them as well_. He rose stiffly to his feet and held out a hand to help Andrew do the same. "Tea will be cold so what do you say we go around to the pub for lunch? We could stop at the market on the way back see if we can't do something about the state of the larder."

"Sounds good to me, certainly beats standing in a muddy creek, which is your usually solution to an empty larder."

"No one can ration what you catch yourself Andrew and with the amount you eat we might starve to death if I didn't know how to fish."

Andrew laughed, "I can't help it. I got used to them feeding us on base, you can't fly very well on an empty stomach after all."

"I'll take your word for it." Foyle replied, refraining from mentioning the fact that Andrew had lost at least 5lbs during the war.

Foyle had buttoned his coat while they were talking and now turned to grab his hat, "If you're ready I suggest we go, the rain appears to have stopped but heaven knows how long that will last."

Andrew nodded and they were soon making their way to the pub around the corner.

The End


End file.
